


Sherlock's death

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Feels, Other, joy...?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 18:08:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/612705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft Holmes requires Irene's services to keep an eye on Sherlock. But she doesn't know that he's ill...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlock's death

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction so sorry if it sucks. Anyway... I hope you'll like it :)

Irene Adler sat on her sofa, relaxing a bit. Suddenly the screen of her phone   
lit up showing her that she had received a message. It said: “I require your   
services. –MH”.  
“What I have to do? –IA”   
“You should go to New York. –MH”  
“Why? –IA”  
“To keep an eye on Sherlock. –MH”  
“And can’t you do this yourself? –IA”  
“No. I need someone to live with him for two or three months. –MH”  
“Why me? –IA”  
“You’re the only one that knows he’s alive. And the one that really cares   
about him. –MH”  
“The other man, the soldier. He doesn’t know…? –IA”  
“No. He has moved out 221B since Sherlock’s *death*. –MH”   
“Ok. Only we know. –IA”  
“Yes. –MH”  
“I’ll go to New York now. –IA”  
“There’s a car waiting for you outside. Look in the backseat. You’ll find   
money, a credit card, some clothes and a key. –MH”  
“Is the key of Sherlock’s house? –IA”  
“Yes. When you’ll arrive in New York a chauffeur will took you there. –MH”  
“Ok. Thanks. I’m going now. I’ll let you know where I’ll be there. –IA”  
“Thank you, Miss Adler. I’ll wait to read something from you. –MH”  
Irene put the phone in her trench coat pocket and went outside. As Mycroft had   
said there was a car waiting for her. When she arrived at the airport she took   
her bags and took the plane. The journey was well. And the chauffeur brought   
her at Sherlock’s house as promised.  
She unlocked the door and entered in it.  
The house was an old, large brownstone. The interior was lavishly decorated,   
heated marble floors, dramatic columns, an elevator, and a swimming pool. She   
found it really nice.  
She texted on the phone: “I’m here. –IA”  
“Good. –MH”  
“Where is he? –IA”  
“I don’t know. Put down the phone and go find him. When you find him let me   
know. –MH”  
“Ok. –IA”   
She put down the phone and started searching Sherlock. It didn’t take too   
long. She found him in the bathroom. He seemed ill.  
“Sherlock?” she called from behind him.  
Sherlock cleaned his mouth before turning to her. “Irene. Mycroft has sent you   
here.” He just said.  
“Yes. You’re ill.” And that wasn’t a question but an affirmation.  
“I’m dying.”  
“Dying…?”  
“I’ve a highly aggressive form of cancer. I’m terminal.”  
“You can’t…” she was hiding her emotions. Like always.  
“Mycroft didn’t tell you?”  
“No. He knows?”  
“He’s the reason I’m going through treatment at all.”  
“He sent me here on purpose.” She realized.  
“He wants you to handle my in-home hospice care.” He said. “Irene, take all   
the money he has gave to you and go away. I don’t want you to watch me die.”  
“I’ll stay here. I want to stay here. I don’t want you to die alone.”  
“If you insist.” He started to climb the stairs to his bedroom. “Pick your   
bedroom.”  
She went into her bedroom. Took the phone and wrote: “You knew that he’s   
dying? –IA”  
“Yes. But I didn’t think that you would go if I have said to you that he was   
dying, right? –MH”  
“Well…I’ll stay here with him. Until he… -IA”  
“I’ll be there when the end will get nearer. –MH”  
“I think that when you’ll come here you’ll take with you the soldier. –IA”  
“Yes, you’re right. Now get care of him. –MH”  
She stopped texting and just sat on the bed. It seemed that there were going   
to be difficult days for her.  
Two or three days after she was used yet to live with Sherlock. He was getting   
worse day after day. She didn’t know how much time he was going to resist.   
A week was past. She realized he was going to die in a day or two.  
“He has still two or three days. It’s better for you to come here. –IA”  
“Yes. I’ll be there as soon as I can. –MH”  
Mycroft arrived in the night.   
“He’s dying really. He has probably one day to live.”   
Mycroft entered in the house making her discover the man behind him. John   
Watson, the soldier.  
“So, you knew he was alive. As Mycroft knew. Why you haven’t told me…?”  
“Sherlock didn’t want.”  
“Where is he now?”  
“In his bedroom.”  
John ran into the house, going quickly in his friend’s bedroom. Irene followed   
him quietly.  
When Sherlock saw John a little smile lit up his face.   
“John” he said trying to talk louder. But his voice was really weak. “My   
friend.”  
“Sherlock. Please, you can’t… please. I’ve lost you yet once, I can’t lose you   
again.”  
“I’m sorry.”  
“For what?”  
“For all you’ve passed since I faked my death.”  
“Don’t be sorry.”  
“Well…I am, instead.”  
“We can’t do anything….?” John said, looking desperately at Mycroft and Irene.  
“No.” Mycroft said “I’m sorry.” He looked at his brother. “I love you. Sorry   
for haven’t said it to you before.”  
“Don’t worry. I know you love me. I’ve always known that.” Sherlock said.   
“Irene?”  
“Yes….?”   
“I love you.”  
“I love you too, Sherlock. I’ll always love you.” She leaned to him and kissed   
his forehead. “I love you.”  
Suddenly Sherlock stopped breathing. Irene, Mycroft and John tried to call   
him, but he didn’t answer. He was gone forever. When they realized it, tears   
started to roll down their face. That night they lost a brother, a lover and a   
friend.   
Sherlock was the dearest person they had and the lost him.  
But Sherlock died knowing to be loved and that was the important thing.  
Many people said he was a psychopath, and he couldn’t have friends. That   
people were wrong.  
He had friends. And those friends knew that he would have always been locked   
in their hearts.  
And that was the most important thing.  
‘Cause in that moment Sherlock Holmes was died, but with a smile on his face.  
Sherlock Holmes died surrounded by love.


End file.
